


Dinner for Kings

by MashiarasDream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Modern Royalty AU, self-indulgent plotless fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: Dean’s found family is gruff as they can be and he loves them to pieces. Only now, he has found someone else that he loves with all of his heart and that person’s station is as far away from Bobby’s junkyard as you can get in this life. Still, if he wants this to work, the two worlds will have to collide.A fluffy little modern royalty AU.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer
Comments: 44
Kudos: 188





	Dinner for Kings

**Author's Note:**

> I had a high fever in March that for some reason made me relive the Swedish crown-princess’ wedding with her (former) fitness trainer and specifically the speech that Daniel’s father gave at the reception: “When my son told me he had met a girl and wanted us to meet her, we didn’t expect it to be THAT GIRL.” So that is where this whole thing is coming from. :D

"You're bringing someone?" Dean can almost see Bobby’s raised eyebrows even though they are talking on the phone. 

"You don't have to sound quite so incredulous," he grumbles. 

Bobby has the gall to laugh. "Never thought I'd see the day, boy."

Dean rolls his eyes, but he can feel the heat creep up his neck. It’s not his fault that he hasn’t had the chance to bring anyone around. It’s not even because there was no one to bring, either, even though that’s what Bobby believes. Dean’s a long time past the random hook-ups of his early adult days. He clears his throat. "So, is it okay? If I bring ’em to family dinner on Sunday?" He persists. 

"Only if you tell me who it is," Bobby persists right back. 

"Someone important," Dean evades.

"Obviously," Bobby huffs. "You wouldn't bring ‘em if they weren't important to you. But what I need is details to tell Ellen. So?"

Dean swallows nervously. "Umm."

"Did you get someone pregnant?" Bobby’s voice takes on a stern tone.

"What? No! ‘Course not. It's not like that!" Dean protests. 

It's only when Bobby starts laughing that Dean notices that his surrogate dad is having some fun at his expense. 

He grumbles a few unflattering words under his breath but makes sure they aren't loud enough for Bobby to decipher them. Out loud, he says an overly sweet, "You sent us to a school that had comprehensive sex ed, remember? I know how to use a condom. I can recite it to you in detail, too, if you want to make sure. I’ll even let you choose whether you wanna hear about how all of it goes depending on what parts are attached to the recipient."

"Ugh, no, thank you, I’m good," Bobby huffs immediately. "Don't need to know any of  _ those  _ details. Sunday, 18:00. We'll have an extra placemat set."

The line clicks and Dean chuckles at the predictability of it all, before the gravity of the situation catches up to him again. He takes a deep shaky breath. Holy fuck. They’re actually doing this. 

Fortunately, the week is busy, giving Dean little time to fret. He’s grateful for it, but his anxiety still ramps up with every passing day. Sunday, he’s basically a nervous wreck.

_ Dean @Sam: You’re still on for tonight, right? _

_ Sam @Dean: You could just tell them beforehand, you know?  _

And that’s all good and well in theory, but:

_ Dean @Sam: Would you have believed it without actually seeing it? _

_ Sam @Dean: Yeah, okay, point. It’ll be fine, Dean.  _

And yeah, Sam is right, it probably will be. Bobby and Ellen are not the type to get starstruck (he hopes anyway) and Jo, well, Jo is Jo. They’ll get over the first shock. The problem is more what follows after. Because that’s when they’ll realise what it means. How much it will change all of their lives, one way or another. That’s the part that gives Dean clammy hands and a knot in his stomach. 

Because he and Sam, they’ve worked their way up from Bobby’s garage and junkyard to building a successful chain of gyms, but in their hearts, they’re still as blue collar as it gets. They were raised to work hard to have food on the table and a roof over their heads. Of course Ellen taught them manners. And the lessons stuck better than with Jo, too. But she didn’t teach them  _ protocol _ . 

Dean makes a face even thinking the word.  _ Protocol  _ has been the bane of his existence ever since he met Cas. And if they’re actually going through with this - if they go public and intend to stay together, Dean has the feeling that  _ protocol  _ will take over all of his life. Naomi will make sure of it. 

He takes another deep breath. Best case scenario. He has to remember that Naomi making him take all of the lessons Cas got in his early childhood is actually their best case scenario. 

_ Dean @Sam: How did I end up here, man?  _

_ Sam @Dean: Majority vote. ;) _

Against his will, Dean chuckles. Because that’s in fact how it all started, only a few days after they’d gotten a formal letter on heavy paper, the royal seal on the envelope giving it extra weight. 

_ “Dean, we just got a letter from a possible new client.” Sam rushes into Dean’s office, white as a sheet.  _

_ “Huh? Yeah, okay,” Dean nods, absorbed into the numbers for their new location, which had opened just a month before, and trying to figure out how much of this was opening rush and promotional benefits, and how many people would actually stay at the gym long-term.  _

_ “Dean! Listen! They’re looking for a personal trainer!” Sam urges, tone borderline hysterical with excitement. _

_ Abruptly, Dean gets the feeling that there was conversation between Sam storming in and now that he’s flat out missed. “Who is?” he asks, and finally looks up from his excel spread to his brother.  _

_ Sam shakes his head at him, eyes still wide as saucers. “Unbelievable. Have you heard anything I said?  _ The royal family! _ They’re looking for a personal trainer for the crown prince! And we’re on their list of candidates!” _

It still sounds crazy when Dean thinks about it like this. Thinks about Sam’s puppy-dog excitement and late night discussions with their senior staff about who might be the most suitable candidate for this. In the end, they couldn’t reach a unilateral decision, so they put up their final options for a vote: Charlie, Sam and Dean. Dean had won the majority of the votes, if by a hair’s width, with Charlie coming in a close second. 

_ “Well, apparently everyone on your staff thinks the crown prince is a queer nerd,” _ Jo had sniggered. 

Dean had laughed. But now that he’s known him for a year and a half… Well. Jo’s not wrong. 

“Dean?”

“Huh?” Dean takes his eyes from where he’d been staring blankly at his phone screen and lets them focus on the present again.

“You wanted to take a quick shower while I got dressed and then wait for me by the car?” Cas reminds him and pointedly looks down at Dean’s naked torso. 

“I…. uhhh… took the shower?” Dean defends himself a little helplessly.

Cas chuckles softly, but he also sits down next to Dean, his eyes worried. “We don’t have to do this, you know? At least not yet.”

“I know,” Dean nods. He gives Cas a weak smile. “My folks should be the easy ones. Hell,  _ I  _ should be the one for whom this is easy.”

“ _ Should _ is a difficult word,” Cas smiles back, though his eyes are clouded with their own brand of fear. Cas might be better than Dean at keeping his anxiety under wraps, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there. When he holds his hand out for Dean to take, Dean doesn’t hesitate to loop their fingers. “And look at you, using  _ whom  _ and everything. I think I’m a bad influence.”

Dean chuckles, though he also squeezes Cas’ fingers tighter. He knows it. That he’s changing under Cas’ influence. He has to and he’s doing it willingly, but...

“Your parents may not be royalists, but I believe that they want to see you happy. Which is a lot,” Cas says quietly.

And yes, Cas’ mother is not always quite as lenient. Her first instincts are about propriety and statesmanship, not happiness.

“They do,” Dean agrees. “But they’ll figure it out fast. What it means.”

“I don’t intend to take you away from them.” 

There is nothing but honesty in Cas’ voice and yet. It’s not that easy and they both know it. 

“They own a junkyard, Cas,” Dean says though Cas is well aware of the fact. “I doubt that Bobby’s ever even seen a tux from close up. And he’s definitely never had anything tailor-made.”

“Should I apologize for that?” Cas asks. “It’s not my intention to make you into someone you’re not, either.”

It sounds a little stiff and a little too formal, like Cas often sounds when the topic turns to his mother. 

She knows. Of course she knows. Dean’s learned it early on that palaces have eyes and ears everywhere. But Dean thinks she still hopes it’s a fling. That even though Cas got him that fancy suit to officially meet his mother, she still hopes that he’ll come to his senses. 

“I’ll get used to the suits,” Dean shrugs. “Whether she’ll get used to you choosing a  _ fitness trainer _ to become your Prince Consort is much more doubtful.”

“Well,” Cas says, “we have a plan for that as well.”

Dean can’t help that his mouth draws into a tight line at the thought. “Not that I like it.”

“But you won’t stop me?” Cas asks like he does every time. 

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “If it comes to that, I won’t stop you. You’re a grown man and make your own decisions.”

The same silent relieved exhale that follows this answer every time follows now, too. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There is no doubt about it and the surety in Dean’s voice makes a smile bloom on Cas’ face, though he tries his best to hide it. But Dean’s had a lot of opportunities to learn to read Cas’ expressions. 

“Hey,” he squeezes Cas’ hand. “Don’t censor yourself. Not with me. You can be who you are here.”

Cas huffs a breath. Annoyed at himself, Dean guesses, though whether it’s because he let the unguarded emotion slip in the first place or because Dean caught him is anyone’s guess. For the fact that he’s the most rebellious crown prince in generations, protocol has been deeply ingrained in him, making him  _ pleasant  _ and  _ polite  _ to a fault. It’s rare that he allows himself anything else, and when he does, he wants it to be a conscious decision. 

Dean doesn’t necessarily get it, his own laughter often surprising him before he can rein it in, but he accepts it. Cas is a package deal after all. He comes with a whole country and a few hundred years of traditions. "I love you, Cas, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes. You know that, right?" 

It’s Dean’s way of saying that they don’t have to do this. That he’ll stay in the shadows if that’s what’s necessary. 

"I do," Cas nods, allowing his smile to be, even though his eyes are unhappy at the offer. He puts a hand on Dean’s cheek, cupping his face. "And I’m sure there are people in my family who would take your offer. But I love you. I would never do this to us. I respect you too much for it, and frankly, I respect myself too much for it, too. I want to do this the right way."

Dean leans into Cas’ touch. He knows that. They have talked about it at length. And Dean’s grateful for it. He knows he’d probably take crumbs of happiness if that was all Cas offered. Because Dean gets it. There’s a whole country to think about beyond their personal hopes. 

“They’ll ask about it. They’re direct to the point of being rude, especially when they worry. So they’ll ask. About your intentions.” Because no one will be kidding themselves here. In this relationship, Cas calls all the shots, whether that’s the way they want it or not. Dean’s options are to go with the flow - or to go. And he’s made his choice. 

“If they ask, I’ll tell them,” Cas nods, any dread or apprehension he might be feeling buried under determination. “But we have to quite literally get there first.” He adds another pointed look at Dean’s naked torso. “Care to get dressed?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean sighs, his own dread less well hidden. “You’re bossy, Your Majesty.”

Cas grins and gives Dean a playful swat on his ass for his sass. “Better hurry, too. We don’t want to be late.  _ That  _ would be a horrible first impression.”

Dean snorts. “Somehow, I think that lecturing us about being late will be the last thing on their minds when they see you.”

Dean’s hands are shaking when they finally pull up to Bobby’s house. He should have brought a second shirt because he’s gonna sweat right through the one he’s wearing. But then, the checkered flannel is his comfort shirt, so maybe not. 

At least they managed to dodge the few paparazzi that loitered around the back gate of the palace. They’re used to seeing Dean’s car and he waved at them nicely while Cas hid under a blanket in the backseat. It’s not necessarily dignified, but the alternative would be to make this into a formal event. With an entourage and security. Dean doesn’t even want to know how that idea would have gone over with Naomi. Cas’ personal security is, of course, unhappy that he’s told them to stay behind. But they have their location and they’re tracking Cas’ phone. And Cas has a panic button kinda thing, that Dean is sure will make his bodyguard Inias show up within 30 seconds if he’s needed. Because he doubts very much that Inias will stay at the palace to wait for him like Cas told him. Dean can’t even be mad about it, really, because he knows that Inias has been with Cas for years and would without doubt take a bullet for him. 

A few miles away from the palace, Dean had pulled over, allowing Cas to slip to the front to ride shotgun, sunglasses hiding his face enough that casual observers won’t give a fuck about a random passenger in a random car. And Bobby’s driveway is long and it’s unlikely that anyone will see Cas here on a Sunday night when the garage is closed and the neighbors down the road have their own family dinners to attend to.

Cas looks around curiously, as usual much more collected than Dean is. But then, for Cas, meeting strangers of all walks of life is basically his job description. In any week, he may meet kids with cancer at a hospital, convicts who help clean up plastic in a forest, and foreign ambassadors at a fancy hotel, and he meets them all with an equally friendly smile and a few honestly interested questions. Because Cas has superpowers like that. 

“Ready?” Cas turns to him after he’s gotten out of the car. 

Dean has just opened his mouth to answer when there is a shouted, “Oh my God! Mooooooom! Come fast! Dean's brought the crown prince!” from the door. 

Dean hangs his head, groaning. “As ready as I’m going to get, I guess.” He puts on a grim smile and moves towards the door. “Joanna Beth, keep your voice down if you please. Cas?”

He would hold out his hand for Cas to take, but it’s too weird. As a rule, they don’t do PDA. They keep a respectful distance. Even on palace grounds, because there are always visitors and random staff, and while a close circle of people knows about them, they try to keep ahead of the rumors. As long as the rumors are contained to a tight circle at the palace, no besmirching of the royal family’s name or long-term consequences to be feared, the queen can choose to keep her eyes closed instead of quenching Castiel’s happiness before it’s even really started. 

“Your sister, I assume?” Cas asks, amusement in his voice covering up any unease. 

“Adopted. I wanna make that clear.” 

Cas ignores the awkward joke, smiles, takes off the sunglasses and comes to Dean’s side. “Hello, Joanna. I’m Castiel.”

“Uhh, yeah, I know who you are,” Jo bursts out. 

Dean would laugh at how comically large Jo’s eyes have gotten if there wasn’t still this nagging worry in his stomach. As silly as that sounds, he wants his family’s approval. And he wants them to see what a cool guy Cas is. That he doesn’t think he’s better than. 

“Think you could let us in, short stack?” Dean raises an eyebrow at her. 

“Oh yeah. Of course.” She shakes herself and steps to the side as Sam shows up behind her. 

“Heya, Castiel,” Sam smiles, still a little shy around Castiel, but much more relaxed than he’d been in the beginning. “Awesome that you could make it.”

Dean can feel the quality of Cas’ smile change as he locks on to a familiar person. “Hello, Sam,” he greets, voice soft. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Sunday dinners are one of my favorites.” Because Sam is sentimental like that.

“Dean has told me about it,” Cas smiles. It’s only when he prompts Dean with a look that Dean notices that Cas is waiting for him to lead the way inside.

“Uh, sorry,” Dean mumbles, the role reversal tilting his world slightly askew. At the palace, it’s always Cas who leads the way. Mostly because Cas actually knows where he’s going. Dean is not extremely good at keeping the hallways apart, especially not the ‘secret’ ones that originally were meant for the servants, but now are used by everyone because they get you to your destination much faster than the official fancy staircases. “Please come in.” 

There’s no danger of getting lost here as they cross the short hallway, passing Jo, whose mouth still hangs open, to arrive at the crowded living room, where the table is already set, only a few steps later. 

For a long moment, it is so quiet that you could hear a needle drop as everyone stares at Castiel. 

Then Cas breaks the silence. He gives a little wave to all of them. “Hello. I’m Castiel. Thank you for inviting me. You must be Ellen Harvelle?” He stretches a hand out to Dean’s adoptive mom. 

Ellen looks from his face to his hand with bewilderment - probably thinking about whether curtsies are still a thing, but immediately dismissing the possibility - before finally taking Cas’ hand. “Bloody hell.” 

“She means  _ it’s a pleasure to meet you _ ,” Eileen translates. She looks completely unfazed. Dean would say it’s an indication that Sam blabbed and told her beforehand even though he was sworn to secrecy, but really, Eileen takes pretty much everything with equanimity. The lack of fuss is one of the things Dean likes about his future sister-in-law. 

“Eileen Leahy, right?” Cas turns to her. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only the good things I hope.” 

Cas smiles and leans a little closer for a conspiratory whisper, though Dean notices how he meticulously makes sure that Eileen can still see his face and read his lips, the stage whisper mostly for everyone else’s sake, “Sometimes I think he likes you better than Sam.”

“Hey!” Dean and Sam both protest at the same time, prompting Cas and Eileen to start laughing. 

Cas moves on to Bobby after. “And you must be Dean’s dad. I’m happy to meet you, Mr. Singer.”

Bobby gives a short head bob, like a miniature bow, while shaking Cas’ hand. He’s obviously flustered. “You’re not - this is a surprise, Your Majesty?” He tries out.

“Oh God, please no,” Cas shakes his head with a laugh. “It’s not even the right title and also, Dean uses it when he tries to annoy me.”

“What is the right title then?” Ellen asks curiously.

“Your Royal Highness, Prince Castiel,” Cas sighs. “But please call me Castiel. I have enough events where protocol is mandatory.”

“And you bear them with grace, Your Majesty,” Dean smirks. It’s about time to bring some levity into this awkward affair. 

Cas rolls his eyes at him fondly before turning to Eileen, apparently finding a natural ally in the other Winchester Plus One. “See what I have to put up with?”

She laughs and signs something at Sam that Dean doesn’t catch. 

It makes Cas smile, though. “I’m glad.”

Eileen blushes and raises her eyebrows. Her hands fly, but Dean’s neither fluent in sign language, nor does he have a good spot to see. 

“Not very well. I’ve learned it, but I lack the opportunity to practice, so I’ve forgotten a lot,” Cas answers apologetically and doesn’t actually try to put signs to the words. “My passive vocabulary is better than the active one, sorry.”

“Oh no,” Eileen shakes her head and talks and signs simultaneously again. “I’m quite impressed that you know any signs at all.”

“Knowing any at all is a low bar to pass,” Cas replies. “But I’m glad that I’m passing.”

“Okay, guys, we were promised food?” Dean interrupts and bumps his shoulder against Castiel’s. “Can’t send a prince back home hungry. That’s just bad manners.”

He thinks Ellen would hit him over the head with a dish rag if it wasn’t for Castiel’s presence, she looks so scandalized, but the comment does the trick because everyone starts moving. Even Jo stops staring and follows Ellen to the kitchen to put the food on the table. 

“You good?” Dean asks Cas in a whisper. 

“They’ll get over it,” Cas whispers back. “Most people do.”

“You saying I don’t still stare at you like you hung the moon?” Dean grins and wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Are you saying you suspect I  _ didn’t _ hang the moon just for you?” Cas grins back sweetly. 

A year ago, it would have made Dean blubber flustered nonsense, now it makes something incredibly warm and happy curl in his chest. He glances around for a moment. There is no chance that they aren’t still the center of attention. “Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly. 

Cas looks around, too, worry creasing his eyebrow for a moment before his face smoothes out. “Of course.”

So Dean leans in, not bringing his hand up to cup Cas’ face, but smuggling it inside Cas’ hand instead. The kiss is soft and utterly tame, yet it still feels exciting like doing something forbidden. They don’t get to do this with an audience usually. 

Cas’ eyes are incredibly blue when they part, his nose slightly crinkled with his smile. There’s no waver there, no hesitation. It makes Dean’s heart soar with the knowledge that this - Cas being here today, meeting Dean’s family - this is Cas taking the first step in a series of steps that can’t be undone. That might change his whole future right along with Dean’s. What they’ve built is not a youthful fling kept hidden. This is something real. Something that they want to last, no matter the consequences.

And it is still very much up in the air what the consequences will be. Yes, Naomi knows that Cas is gay. She has even accepted that he ducks out of having the various daughters of business moguls and other royal houses thrown at him. But she accepts it under the condition that Cas is discreet in his exploits and doesn’t make a ‘spectacle’ out of himself. He can’t wear flashy clothes, can’t chair LGBT+ foundations, can’t be seen at Pride Parade. Has to keep a low profile on anything personal. Reporters are not allowed to ask about his relationship status. Do it once, never get near the crown again. There are of course still everlasting rumors and every so often a reporter will sneak in a question, will bait him with the names of handsome bachelorettes - and bachelors. Cas deflects it every time, with a professional smile, some warm wit and no information given whatsoever. It’s a long way from there to ‘I’m in a committed relationship with my fitness trainer’.

“Earth to Dean?”

“Huh?” he flinches when Jo’s voice comes from way too close. 

“Dinner is ready,” Jo points at the table. Cas looks at him with an amused smile. 

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

Cas gets the place next to him that usually is Sam’s, Sam and Eileen being banished to the other side of the table where it’s a little crowded sitting with three people since Jo also has to fit in. Ellen and Bobby preside over the assembly from either side of the table like they have since Sam and Dean came to them as kids. 

There are heaps of food piled onto the table, everything stacked in the middle for everyone to take. 

“Uhh, I’m sure this is not how you’re used to…” Ellen starts but Cas doesn’t let her finish. 

“It’s fine. I know how to take my own food.” He tempers his tone to something softer, the moment of frustration smoothed out in an instant. “It all looks very tasty. Thank you for inviting me. I have been looking forward to meeting you.”

Ellen actually  _ blushes  _ at that and Dean marvels again at how his geeky queer prince does that. Cas insists that it was a long process to get here, that he was a nerdy and awkward kid, having grown up homeschooled and having only a few advanced classes in an actual class with students other than his sister. But Dean doesn’t see it. Cas had managed to wrap Dean around his little finger in no time at all.

Dean smiles at the memory of those first few breathless training sessions. He hadn’t thought much of it beforehand. They’ve got other private clients with big houses and big money. But stepping foot inside that palace? It had been exhilarating and intimidating all at once. 

And then Cas had shown up, hair tousled as if he’d just gotten up, even though his training outfit was impeccable…

_...and Dean’s first words to the crown prince of their country are, “Nice digs.” _

_ He can feel the heat rush to his face the next moment, even though the comment startles a breathless laugh out of said prince.  _

_ “I’ve heard the sentiment before, if not in those words.” _

_ “I’m sorry,” Dean stumbles. “Didn’t mean - it’s just - I’m kinda used to our gym and that’s regular size and also doesn’t really have all of this 15th century - stuff,” he gestures vaguely towards the ceiling and makes himself shut up by violently clicking his mouth shut.  _

_ Castiel follows his gaze. “It’s called stucco and it’s 17th century. We have a good crew keeping it in repair. They can build stucco on any surface you like. I can give you their business card if you’re interested in sprucing up the decor of your gym.” _

_ For a moment, Dean just blinks at the absurdity of it all, but then he notices the glimmer in Castiel’s eyes. An involuntary guffaw of laughter finds its way from deep inside his chest.  _

_ “Yeah, okay,” Dean chuckles. “You almost got me there. Are you always this sassy with your instructors?” _

_ Castiel gives him a smile back, obviously pleased with the fact that Dean has recognized his humor for what it is. He raises his eyebrow in challenge. “Only the handsome ones.”  _

_ It leaves Dean blushing and stammering his way through their first exercise.  _

_ Afterwards, Dean marvels at the easy connection they made and hopes fervently that it isn’t just the smoothness of a life lived in the public eye, but that Castiel felt the same instant click.  _

_ He can’t stop smiling for the whole weekend when Charlie tells him on Friday that the palace called back and that Dean got the job.  _

“So, umm, I guess we don’t have to ask how you two met.” Bobby’s voice brings Dean back to the present. 

“Nah,” Dean shakes his head. “I told you that story.”

“Seems like you didn’t tell it all,” Jo grins, apparently finally shaking her surprise. Dean finds the return to normalcy comforting for a second before he remembers all the times Jo has embarrassed him in front of his dates. 

Still, he grins at her and wiggles his eyebrows, “A gentleman never tells it all.” 

She makes a face. “There’s a prince here, Dean.”

Cas snorts. “Be assured that I am  _ quite  _ used to his brand of humor. I think he’s already toning it down quite significantly.”

“Hey, don’t rat me out, man!” Dean nudges Cas in the shoulder.

That makes everyone chuckle, but it doesn’t dispel the awkwardness that’s still lingering. 

So Dean takes a deep breath and launches into the part of the story that he’s had to keep from his family until now. “About six months in. That’s when we took the leap.” He leans into Cas’ side. “Though His Royal Highness flirted with me from day one.”

“In my defense, you are a fairly attractive individual,” Cas says drily.

“And you are supposed to be a dignified heir to the throne!”

“Touché,” Cas admits with a shrug. “Though you had signed an NDA, so I was playing it fairly safe.”

“A non-disclosure agreement?” Ellen asks with some worry. “Does it still apply? Do we need to sign anything?”

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “There will be no formalities. Dean trusts you, so I trust you, too. I’ll have to ask you to keep knowledge of our relationship under wraps for the moment, though.” He grimaces like the thought is painful for him and Dean puts a hand on Cas’ knee in comfort. “I have not yet officially told my mother and I do not expect that conversation to go any more pleasantly if she reads it on the front page of a newspaper instead of hearing it from me.”

“Hears what exactly?” Bobby asks with narrowed eyes. 

Cas puts a hand over Dean’s hand on his knee before Dean can even react. And yeah, the suspicious tone raises Dean’s hackles. Should be a clear sign of intentions even to Bobby that he has a crown prince sitting at his dinner table. 

Cas’ voice on the other hand is perfectly composed. “I will tell my mother that Dean and I intend to spend the rest of our lives together, Mr. Singer. The same as I’m telling you right now. And I’d like her blessing, just like I would like yours.”

“And if she says No?” Bobby growls, ignoring the whole part about Cas asking for his blessing. 

“That would be unfortunate,” Cas allows and takes a deep breath. “It would mean some drastic changes to my future. But it wouldn’t change my intentions about spending my life with Dean.”

“Can you even do that? Can’t they like, make you give him up?” Jo asks. 

Cas turns to her. “I am still an adult person with my own free will. I can choose to marry Dean against the Crown’s wishes,” he nods. “Once I abdicate, anyway. Then my life is my own.”

The word  _ abdicate _ hangs heavily in the air, reverberating around their crowded living room like an intruder. Dean’s never liked this option and he still doesn’t, but he bites his lip and doesn’t comment. Too many people are already infringing on Cas’ right to make his own decisions. Dean’s not gonna become one of them. 

Bobby watches Cas for another long moment, then he nods a curt “good”, before reaching over and holding out the plate with the roast for Cas to take. 

Cas takes the plate with a friendly “thank you”, but still looks at Dean for pointers. Dean shrugs and gestures at Cas to put some of the roast on his plate. He’s warned Cas. Bobby might look like he cares for nothing but the old junkers out in the yard, but he’s protected Dean and Sam since they were little, even against their own dad. He still wants to protect Dean now. Dean’s grateful for it, too. He has no idea what would have happened to Sammy and him if Bobby hadn’t fought for them. If he hadn’t taken them in even though money was tight and they could have as well used their resources for themselves instead of feeding and clothing two fast-growing boys. 

Cas takes some food and gives the big plate on to Dean, who takes some as well and then reaches over to Ellen so she can continue. “I really hope it doesn’t come to that,” he says to no one in particular, “I love him, but I’ve never wanted to put Cas in a position where he might have to give up his whole life for me.”

Cas huffs, but Dean shakes his head. 

“Nah, Cas. I’m not gonna stop you, but I still get to have an opinion. I know that this is about personal integrity for you, but it’s also about a whole country and I can’t ignore that.”

“They’ll have Anna if it comes to it. She’d do a great job, and she’d give them a traditional family without it breaking her heart. And I have to believe that the majority of my subjects would prefer to have the younger sibling on the throne rather than have me pretend to be someone I am not. If they don’t, then who am I making all those sacrifices for? No, Dean. There is no version of my life where I’m marrying Hannah because our parents decided at age 3 that we’d make a great royal couple.”

Dean rolls his eyes. Hannah is - not exactly a sore topic, but definitely not an easy one. But fortunately, these days Hannah has the exact same opinion about a possible marriage with Castiel that Cas has. Dean’s pretty sure that still doesn’t mean she will ever be friendly towards him, but she’s a good ally to Cas, so Dean can’t hate her too much. 

“You know what I mean,” is all he answers, though, because they’ve been through this. 

“I do,” Cas nods. “And I want to serve my country in any capacity that I can. But I want to be myself as well. And I want to be with you.” 

It’s such a simple sentence, said with a matter-of-course smile like there’s no doubt, has never been any doubt, will never be any doubt. So of course Dean can feel the heat rise into his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah,” he deflects and mumbles, “I love you, too.” Which of course spawns a round of “awww”s from everyone at the table. “Oh, shut up! All of you!” he growls because the heat in his cheeks is definitely flaming now. When he glances over at Cas, Cas looks at him with such soft eyes that it makes Dean blush even harder. He decides that it’s much safer to keep his eyes on his plate. 

Cas chuckles and then straightens up. “So, Ellen, can you tell me how to make this wonderful dish?” he asks.

“Umm.” Ellen is obviously surprised by the abrupt change of topic, but launches into an explanation of how Bobby’s mother is responsible for the original recipe but how they have improved it over time anyway. 

Cas asks a few follow-up questions, the conversation now solidly revolving around food. Sam catches Dean’s eyes over the table. Sam nods, a small motion, but it has a smile attached. It’s going well. Dean ducks his head, but he smiles, too, nerves finally subsiding somewhat.

That is, until Bobby manages to corner him in the kitchen when Dean volunteers to bring a new round of beers.

For a moment, Bobby does nothing but stare him down. Dean grits his teeth, but holds his ground, holding out a beer as a peace offering. Bobby narrows his eyes, but eventually he takes it. Then he asks, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" 

Dean snorts. “‘Course not. Pretty sure there’s no manual for this.” And because that is a deflection that Bobby will call him on, he adds. “But I know what I want.”

“And that is Castiel?” Bobby asks. 

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “And believe me, I wasn’t looking for it or searching it out or whatever. I was doing my job and then… well.” He shrugs. “The rest is history I guess.”

“It will be. History,” Bobby points out. “That’s a pretty big ask for anyone.”

“‘S not like that’s Cas’ fault, though. He can’t change who he is.”

“But you can?” 

It’s exactly the question Dean’s feared. It would make him smile how well he knows his family if it wasn’t also the question he’s struggled with the most. But in the end, he knows what his answer has to be. 

“Yes,” he nods. “Yes, I can. I can become what the Crown needs me to be for this to work.” He swallows heavily. “Question is, are you guys willing to follow me part of the way?”

Bobby raises his eyebrows at him. 

“I’ll always come back here. There’s not even a question about that. But there’s gonna be other stuff. Stuff that happens at the palace. And like,  _ in the public eye _ .”

“Paparazzi?” Bobby grunts. 

“Yeah, that, too. But also official interviews. Royal social media posts. Wedding pictures by the royal photographer. Y’know?” He can tell that Bobby’s not thought about that part before by the way he freezes, beer bottle halfway to his mouth. “I can understand if you don’t want any of that. ‘S gonna be fucking weird. But I’d kind of, y’know, I’d be happy if I didn’t have to decide? Between him and the rest of you? If we could somehow make it work that everyone’s in it together?”

Bobby nods dumbly, but Dean can see how much trouble he has taking this in. 

“It would mean wearing a penguin suit for my wedding. And like, probably of the three-piece kind. And if you wanna go with tradition, as my dad, you gotta give a speech.”

Bobby chokes on his spit and lets his beer bottle sink without taking a sip. “A speech?” he croaks. 

“Yup. In front of basically every royal family that there is in this world. I gotta give one, too.” The thought makes him shudder, but at the same time, “I’ve kind of already started drafting it,” he admits. “Wanna make sure that I get it right.”

“So you and Cas, you really - you’re making plans for this already?”

“He wouldn’t be here tonight if we weren’t. This is a big thing for him, too. I mean, I’m guessing most of the country is wondering about him, but coming out? I think his mother was hoping to avoid it forever.”

“But she’ll allow it?”

Dean shrugs. “Coming out with a wedding announcement actually is the royal best case scenario according to Cas. Cause at least it proves stability and commitment or whatever.”

“Marrying you makes Cas more qualified to lead the country?” Bobby asks dubiously.

Dean snorts. “Wouldn’t quite put it that way. But I guess holy matrimony is preferable to club life even when it’s with me.”

“Hey,” Bobby frowns. “Don’t put yourself down, son. Your upbringing may not be as  _ prestigious _ as his is, but you are a good man and he’s lucky to have you. Will keep him grounded instead of adding more fuel to any royal flights of fancy.”

“Royal flights of fancy, huh?” Dean chuckles. “You already practicing phrases for your speech?”

Bobby grumbles something into his beard that Dean doesn’t understand, but when he looks back at Dean, his eyes are worried. “You sure you want that?”

“Yes,” Dean repeats. “I love him.”

Bobby shakes his head, so Dean raises his eyebrows at him. “Not that. You’ve told me that,” Bobby rumbles before he mutters, “The speech. I was talking about the speech. Kinda would understand it, if you were ashamed.” He turns his head away and immediately takes another swallow of his beer. 

“But I’m not,” Dean answers with a shrug. It should be self-evident, really. 

“You sure?” Bobby asks back dubiously. 

“Bobby, man.” For a moment, Dean is at a loss of what to say. “You got like, full permission to come after me with a shotgun if I ever feel ashamed of where I grew up. You and Ellen, you… you saved our asses. You’re our family.” Maybe more than John ever was. “If I’m ever ungrateful for that, then, I dunno. Hit me over the head hard until I remember.”

Bobby snorts, but his posture relaxes by a fraction. “Guess I gotta get Ellen to find that old dictionary then. Gotta have enough fancy words in there so that it don’t look like your family is stupid.” 

It’s Dean’s turn to snort. “Just don’t tell any embarrassing childhood stories to the whole set of worldwide royalty, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I ain’t promising nothin’.” 

That makes Dean grin, it's so predictable. “Didn’t actually expect you to.” His grin fades, though a hopeful smile stays. “So we’re good?” 

Bobby sends a long look towards where Cas is chuckling at something that Jo said. Then he turns back to Dean and nods. “We’re good. Y’all have my blessing. And now let’s go back before they think we started working on a junker.”

Dean chuckles though he also shakes his head at Bobby’s abrupt retreat. Too many feelings. It makes both of them run sometimes. Though right now, Dean doesn’t feel like running. In fact, he feels like staying exactly where he is. So he leans in the doorframe, watches Bobby return to the table and immediately grab everyone’s attention with a bellowed story. Everyone but Cas that is, who looks towards Dean, question mark in his eyes. 

Dean shakes his head with a smile.  _ Nothing to worry about. We’re good. _

Cas raises his eyebrow a little higher.  _ You sure? _

This time, Dean nods.  _ I’m sure.  _

Cas nods, too, then, a small relieved smile playing around his lips. 

“I love you.” Dean mouths the words, any sound lost in the ruckus of the room. But Cas catches them anyway it seems, because his smile widens. So does Eileen’s, so she's caught it as well. 

Dean clears his throat and wills his face not to turn red, before shaking his head at his own reaction. He's in a room with all the family he loves. And that family includes his future husband. He has a right to be happy. So instead of suppressing it, he lets his own smile spread wide as well before rejoining the fray. 


End file.
